Elli was now free to look forward to her meeting in a coffee shop, a short twenty-minute walk away, in the shadow of the Egyptian or Misir Bazaar near the Southern end of the Galata Bridge spanning the mouth of what used to be called the Golden Horn.
The view from there of the Bosphorus and the city’s Asian side was breathtaking and never ceased to excite and move her every time. She loved to walk in her favourite city in her favourite time of the year.
It was a dazzling day. She made her way to the agreed spot, found a table and sat down to wait for her date. He had been on an errand deep in the Fanari district near the Ecumenical Patriarchate, not very far from where she was sitting.
He enjoyed visiting old haunts lovingly explored and tirelessly trodden during their frequent visits to the city as children. He saw her before she saw him. He stood behind her and covered her eyes with his hands. She did not even flinch as if expecting it.
‘My darling boy. It’s been some time. It’s good to see you.’
They hugged tightly and looked at each other. Elli’s face brightened by a wide smile. Vasilis studied her. She was still a beautiful “young” woman. She was ageless. To them it was a mother and son reunion. But they were both in disguise. To the rest of the world it was a meeting between a happy couple, a couple very much in love.
They both knew it wouldn’t be long before the pages of newspapers and magazines from Baku to Los Angeles and Sydney were splashed all over with the gossip of the Ducesa de Mori Astir taking a new lover, a new “beau”. That was a delicious thought that amused them both. The temptation to laugh was irresistible.
They laughed till their facial muscles met the limit of tolerance of excruciating pain. They stopped, breathless, as if they were drowning in a deep ocean and in a sudden rush came up with an unquenchable thirst for air. With an unsatisfied hunger they both started talking almost at once.
‘Mother. Thanks for the holiday.’
‘I thought you would enjoy it. Do they suspect you?’
‘I don’t think so. They think that we had a fall out and that, full of anger, in my disillusionment with you and feeling betrayed by you, I wished to hurt you by switching sides. And what would be the ideal vehicle of revenge than allying myself with your worst enemy? I’ve planted enough bugs in there to write a book about their lives. The bugs are working perfectly. They should be transmitting everything to your control centre on Mount Ellothon.’
Vasilis paused and his demeanour took on the excitement of a child’s emerging from a cave of wonders. ‘Mother, you should see their underwater city. Its beauty is beyond what words could describe. I hope we don’t have to destroy it to neutralise their threat once and for all.’
‘I think we should be able to avoid that. But we have much work to do. Keep me informed on what they have acquired. We will make sure they only end up with the fake goods. Have you seen the icon?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Do you know where it’s held?’
‘No, but I’ll try and find out. Mother, you know we cannot underestimate the Madame Marcquesa de Parmalanski. She’s very smart. I’m the one closest to their centre of control and the one most at risk of blowing my cover and endangering our plans. I’ll be careful.’
‘Try and find out the whereabouts of the icon. We’ll have a fake one for you ready to make the switch when you do.’
At that moment a beggar was passing by and he offered Elli a flower out of a bouquet he held in his hand. Another flower he deliberately dropped on the ground. Elli recognised the face even under all those ravishing wrinkles mixed with dirt. His disguise would make a girl in the Sultan’s harem or, more likely, the make-up artist who makes dead bodies look their lovely freshest best, very proud. The beauty counter had sold out, Elli thought. Under all that pile upon pile of make-up with the compliments of the gutter was her brother, Iraklios.
She smiled, what looked to the world a polite and indifferent smile. But to Iraklios it was the glint in her eye that spoke to him and they understood each other. She gave him some change and he was on his way. She smelled the flower and placed it next to her on the table.
A few seconds later she deliberately pushed it, so that it fell to the ground and landed next to the other flower and her handbag that was relaxing by her feet. She bent down and pulled a quick switch. She discreetly put the flower that was offered to her in her bag and the other back onto the table. While the flower sat on the table the second ingredient required for its secret to be activated had already been added.
The heat emitted by the coffee cup combined with the heat of Elli’s breath had a strange invigorating effect on the flower, that otherwise seemed to have been on its last legs, or, to put it correctly, last petals. Now inside Elli’s bag, it was emitting an intoxicating fragrance that apparently only she and her companion could smell. Inside the confines of the bag it transformed into a parchment, a transformation visible only to Elli and Vasilis. To anyone else opening the bag it would still look like a flower.
The Ruinands who had caught up with Elli and had seen the transformation into the Ducesa were on their way to abduct her and her son. Iraklios was watching the Ruinands himself. He intervened with the flower when he saw the noose tightening around Elli and Vasilis’ neck. He gave them a way out.
While nothing seemed to have changed at that table, Elli, the Ducesa disguise having melted away, and Vasilis had already been transported to the airfield and Elli’s waiting plane that took them back to Cyprus.
CHAPTER 43
Limassol, Cyprus
Present day
Elli and Giorgos were sitting in Elli’s living room reviewing their progress so far and discussing their next steps in this quest for the truth.
‘Giorgos, I’m leaving for Mount Athos tomorrow.’
‘Have you found a lead or are you working on a hunch?’
‘I read those seven pages that were missing from the Book of the Pallanians that you and Aristo got from Alexandria. It mentions a book of documents and invoices with no lists, but the sum of payment for the construction of what, from the considerable amount spent, seems to have been a huge building or project. But it does not mention the location or the year. Such an expensive construction must have been made for someone very important.
‘I wonder whether it could lead us to the tomb of, perhaps I would dare say, the last Emperor. I know it may be wishful thinking on my part, but there’s no harm in checking it out. There’s another reason for me wanting to go to Mount Athos. The matter of the possible impostor Emperor is bothering me and I want it resolved. I want to ask the abbot or Aggelos whether they know of the existence of any relic that contains parts of that impostor.
‘After Constantinople fell to the Ottomans, the Sultan had the body of the last Emperor quartered and hung on the city walls to crush any remaining morale or flame of rebellion that the inhabitants of the city may have harboured. Someone, at least, some faithful soul must have stolen a part. And it probably ended in a monastery on Mount Athos, as other relics and treasures did after the fall of the City. Alternatively, there may be a body part in the Topkapi.
‘The Sultan must have kept something and it would have been probably transferred there as part of its collection when the Topkapi was first built. If such a body part exists, and assuming we can be sure of its authenticity, we can carry out a DNA test to confirm once and for all whether there was, indeed, an impostor on the throne at that critical time.’
‘I will do some digging on the matter of that construction. I will let you know if I find anything. In the meantime, have a good trip.’
‘Thank you. I don’t think I’ll be more than a couple of days. I will see you when I get back.’
‘It’s a date.’
CHAPTER 44
